


Things You Said When You Were Scared

by deanlovescastielswormstache



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovescastielswormstache/pseuds/deanlovescastielswormstache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things I will always remember about you. I remember the way you laughed, brightly, gloriously, with your whole belly, and to the point of exhaustion.I remember the way you held me, some nights, trembling at the thought of your friends, your dedicated followers, being punished as they followed you to your grave, the pillow dampening as light crept through the blinds. But most of all, I remember the things you said when you were scared, on that cold, windy night, the gale whipping through my hair and drying your tears the instant they were shed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Said When You Were Scared

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt which said exactly what the title does.

There are many things that I will always remember about you. 

I remember the way you used to look through me the farther I got into my glass. 

I remember the way you would look at me, like I was your world, like you couldn’t believe I was real, like I was a puzzle you were trying to piece together.

I remember making you breakfast and drawing your flyers as you muttered over your latest paper.

I remember receiving your wholehearted attention, at dinner, at the Musain, in bed, with a single-minded determination that caused a crease in your brow; one I came to love as much as I did you.

I remember the way you laughed, brightly, gloriously, with your whole belly, and to the point of exhaustion.

I remember the way you held me, some nights, trembling at the thought of your friends, your dedicated followers, being punished as they followed you to your grave, the pillow dampening as light crept through the blinds.

But most of all, I remember the things you said when you were scared, on that cold, windy night, the gale whipping through my hair and drying your tears the instant they were shed.

The preceding fight was awful. Just a we had our serendipitous moments, we had moments that were tiny agonies lodged in our hearts and arguments that exploded into anger and tears. You would quiet, and I would get loud. You would get cold and I would rage through the heat of anger.

I can’t even remember what were were fighting about. But I can remember the trek to the nearest dive bar, to the nearest bottle, and the burn of betrayal and hurt in my throat. I drank with a dogged determination that was almost fiercer than my despair at the thought of losing you. It had always been hopeless, I knew it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking sloppily to the Seine, alcohol running through my system, emboldening me, hastening my decision along, my barrier to the cold and emptiness of the real world. I think I was crying, but my feet were steady as I climbed up on to the barrier of the bridge, water rushing underneath me and my heartbeat in my ears.

I remember seeing the glint of your unforgettable hair in the streetlight as your terrified eyes begged me to stop, as you desperately told me that you needed me in your life. Your hands reached for me, but I couldn’t feel your warmth.

"Please, Grantaire. I love you with my entire being." 

I remember the way my eyes hungrily traced the tears on your cheeks and the way my heart was splintering at the thought of leaving you, not wanting to go even as my body was pulling me away. Your heartbroken eyes and betrayed expression will haunt my memory.

"I’m sorry that I’m broken, Enjolras."

I don’t remember if he heard my apology, but I remember my hands trembling as I took a few shaky breaths, and stepped into emptiness.

I came to with the overpowering scent of disinfectant and your broken voice, pleading to God, an entity I thought you had always claimed a myth. The pride was gone from your voice as you pleaded for my safety and my forgiveness, your damp hands entwined desperately with mine. In that moment I knew that even though we had our differences, you felt the same way I did. That we were the best thing that had ever happened to each other.

I will always remember the little things you did to show me that you loved me, and how you accepted my depression, checking in with me and never again losing patience when the occasional black cloud came to stay.

But it is the things that you said when you were scared that would remain forever etched into my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://deanlovescastielswormstache.tumblr.com) or on my [Les Mis blog](http://permets-tu-not-permettez-vous.tumblr.com).


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